Reflecting Fate
by EvanescentBlue
Summary: It was a mission like any other - infiltrate the Shepherds by faking amnesia, gain their trust by helping them to victory, then strike directly at the heart of Ylisse. The man named 'Robin' is nothing more than a facade, for his true allegiance lies with the Grimleal. Unfortunately his so-called 'children' and his own personal feelings keep insisting on getting in the way.
1. An Abandoned House in Ylisse

**_This is a new story idea that popped into my head recently. It might tie into my oneshot series the Morgan Paradox later on, but for now it's completely standalone. Also, while I did mention that I felt the Avatar's Japanese name Rufure was a much better name for the Avatar in this story he will be referred to as Robin._**

**_I'll just say this right now to get things out of the way - Chrom will be paired with Olivia since I have a few plans for prince!Inigo (not to mention Inigo looks exactly like Chrom, seriously). While I'm not sure about who to pair Robin with just know that I am _not_ a fan of Avatar x Lucina, so if that pairing ever works its way in somehow it'll either be onesided or completely platonic. And finally, due to the nature of this story some of the characters' roles and/or attitudes towards the Avatar have been changed a little._**

**_In this story Grima did not travel back in time._**

**_Thoughts and suggestions are always welcome!_**

* * *

_Present Time: an abandoned house in Ylisse_

For a supposedly great, intelligent, and all-knowing bandit boss (in his own words) Garrick had always been an excitable man. Today in particular he was practically bouncing on the soles of his feet, grinning from ear to ear and looking for all the world like an eager puppy. Robin resisted the urge to whack him on the head; this time, at least, he could understand the man's excitement. Although Garrick's group of bandits had been working under the king's orders for a while now this was the first time they'd been given such an important task. Attacking random villages went a long way towards satisfying their bloodlust but did little to stroke their inflated egos.

But the famous and highly vaunted Shepherds, led by the Exalt's very own brother? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and the bandits knew it.

Robin whistled quietly in an effort to drown out Garrick's excited muttering, watching the men around him sharpen their weapons and swap fantasies about what they planned to do in the unfortunate village on the other side of the hill. Their grins were wide and lecherous, and pure, unadulterated greed shone in the eyes of every single one.

He'd been traveling with this group of bandits for a few weeks now. It was a pity, really - they were somewhat more skilled than your average run-of-the-mill bandits and a few of them had real potential. Robin had even taken it on himself to give a few of the more promising ones some tips and was pleased to see their combat skills increase at a good rate; at this point he estimated they could easily hold their own against a small platoon of conscripted soldiers on a level playing field.

Of course they still had no chance whatsoever against highly trained warriors such as Prince Chrom and his Shepherds, but Robin saw no point in ruining their sweet delusions. Those delusions were an integral part of his strategy, after all.

All heads snapped up and silence fell as a lone swordsman dressed in plain, unassuming civilian garb hurried into the room.

"Sir!" The swordsman skidded to a stop in front of Robin and gave him a sloppy bow. "The Shepherds're coming over the hill. They'll be at the field in an hour!"

The bandits broke out into excited chattering, only to sheepishly fall silent again as Robin clapped his hands and raised an eyebrow at them.

"Right, then. I'll best be off," he said cheerfully as he hopped down from the broken crate he'd been using as a chair. "Garrick, I leave the rest of the plan to you. Remember everyone, treat me like you'd treat any random stranger trying to stop your fun." With a wink and a two-fingered salute he headed outside, pausing just outside the doorway to throw a grin back at the doomed men. "I'll see you later!"

The field he'd chosen was about a ten minutes' walk from the village, far enough that any spontaneous bandit raids could escape attention but not so far that billowing plumes of black smoke would go completely unnoticed in the perfectly clear sky. It was the perfect place to take a nice afternoon nap, actually, and for a long moment Robin stared longingly at the tall green grass waving invitingly in the wind. He'd always enjoyed sleeping, especially whenever he was outside the castle. Whenever he slept in the castle he inevitably slipped into his dreams, where there were no barriers for him to hide behind. Out here, in the unfamiliar and dangerous territory of Ylisse, it was unlikely he'd have the same problem.

But alas, duty called. Robin sighed and walked a small distance away from the main road, instinctively glancing around to check for any witnesses. Seeing no one, he carefully went to stand at a spot where the grass was somewhat thinner, allowing someone with keen eyes to spot the darkness of his boots hidden behind them. Then, pushing his sword out of the way so he didn't accidentally stab himself with the scabbard, he let himself flop unceremoniously onto the ground and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep but it wouldn't hurt to rest, just for a little bit.

* * *

He'd been lying there for a while and was almost beginning to drift off when three distinct voices reached his ears. Two male voices - one calm and steady with a vaguely amused undertone, the other calm and steady with a distinctly exasperated undertone - and one female - cheerful, bubbly, and so expressive Robin could practically _hear_ her pouting.

These were the people he was waiting for, no doubt. For a bunch of highly trained warriors they were oddly loud.

"Hey, what's that over there?"

The girl was the one who noticed him first, interrupting herself mid-sentence. Interesting. Robin had initially pegged her as a bit of an airhead based on her voice and labeled her as less dangerous than the men; he'd have to take care not to make that mistake again.

"Let's go take a look, shall we?"

Metal clinked together; three feet landed on the ground and the grass began to rustle as three people moved towards his position.

_'Keep your eyes closed and your muscles relaxed'_ Robin silently reminded himself even as his fingers twitched slightly, aching to jump to his weapons._ 'They're not going to attack someone who's supposedly passed out on the ground.'_

"Hey, is that a person?" There was a bit more rustling as two of them hurried over to where he lay. "Is he okay? He's not moving at all..."

"He seems to be breathing and there are no wounds that I can see. It's strange that he hasn't woken up by now, though. We've hardly been quiet."

"Milord, milady, may I advise caution? This could very well be a trap."

"But what if he really needs help? Frederick, Chrom, we have to do SOMETHING."

Someone replied but Robin didn't hear, as he'd stopped listening at the name 'Chrom'. He'd known that he'll run into the man at some point but for it to be so soon...

He inadvertently twitched and opened his eyes.

Immediately the two people standing above him stopped talking and bent down to look at him.

"I see you're awake now." Blue hair and a kind face. A finely made blue uniform under a silver pauldron and white cape. The famed brand of the Exalt prominently displayed on his exposed shoulder. This was definitely Chrom.

"Hey there!" Blonde hair pulled into two pigtails, with an intricate headpiece crafted from metal and lace. A high quality battle corset over a sunny yellow dress. A healing staff strapped onto her back. Definitely a noble of some sort, possibly Chrom's younger sister if the 'milady' and the way she talked to Chrom was anything to go by.

With a start Robin noticed that Chrom was now holding out a hand; with no other option he gingerly took it and allowed the lord to pull him to his feet.

"You all right?" Chrom asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Y-yes..." Robin attempted a small smile. "Thank you, Chrom." Almost immediately he had to fight to keep his expression from sinking into panic - no, no, no, no, no! This was _not_ how things were supposed to go...

"Ah, then you know who I am?" A raised eyebrow, an inquiring tone...Chrom didn't seem suspicious yet. He was a prominent figure with a highly distinctive marking; it wouldn't be unusual for common Ylisseans to recognize him on sight. Robin could easily go with it, he was good at improvising on the spot...

But doing so would ruin all the carefully lain plans he'd already put in place, and there hadn't been time to prepare the necessary background for any story other than the one he was ordered to play.

"No, actually." Robin frowned, shaking his head slightly. "I...It's strange... Your name, it just...came to me." Inwardly he cringed. Just how much more suspicious could he get?

Chrom's eyebrow migrated further upwards. "...Hmm, how curious. Tell me, what is your name? What brings you here?"

"My name is... It's... Hmm?" Robin winced and pressed a hand to his head for added effect, feigning confusion.

"You don't know your own name?" If Chrom was concerned before he was definitely worried now, giving him the same expression one might give a wounded stranger.

It was incredible how trusting and naive this prince was. Robin played up his confusion a bit more, looking around to stare at their surroundings. "I'm not sure if...I'm sorry, but where am I, exactly?" He used the chance to solidly ground himself in the setting; in front of him was Chrom, the girl, and a tall knight who was eyeing him with a clearly distrustful expression. On the road behind them were two horses - one of them lightly saddled, the other a warhorse in full armor. In the worst case scenario Robin thought he could probably take all of them on, or at least hold them off long enough to escape.

Fortunately the worse case scenario was momentarily averted when the girl fell for his bait hook, line, and sinker. "Hey, I've heard of this! It's called amnesia!"

"It's called a load of pegasus dung," the knight spoke up for the first time since Robin 'woke up', staring intently at the supposed amnesiac. "We're to believe you remember milord's name, but not your own?"

"B-but it's the truth!" For a stretched definition of the truth, anyway. Robin's name - his real name, the one given to him by the only one who mattered - was technically not his own.

Chrom looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "What if it IS true, Frederick? We can't just leave him here, alone and confused. What kind of Shepherds would we be then?"

What kind of Shepherds indeed. They were famous for their kindness and compassion, for always helping people who needed their help. It was a trait that endeared them to the citizens of Ylisse, and it was what ultimately made Robin's gambit possible to pull off.

"Just the same, milord, I must emphasize caution. 'Twould not do to let a wolf into our flock."

"Right then - we'll take him back to town and sort this out there."

Yes! Robin fought to keep down his elated grin, instead frowning and taking a step backwards as he feigned indignation. "Wait just one moment. Do I have a say in this?"

"Peace, friend." Chrom gave him a reassuring smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I promise we'll hear all you have to say back in town. Now come."

* * *

The first step of his mission was complete, but now came the crucial part. Chrom was more trusting than Robin had initially thought, but even he wouldn't accept just any random stranger into his ranks. Robin would have to show that he was a valuable ally and a potential friend. Luckily he had just the pawns to do it.

He waited until the town came into view before speaking up, doing his best to project an air of annoyance. "What will you do with me? Am I to be your prisoner?"

Chrom chuckled. "You'll be free to go once we establish you're no enemy of Ylisse."

_'Sorry, I don't plan on getting caught and you're not getting rid of me anytime soon'._ Robin switched from annoyance to confusion in the space of one blink. "Is that where we are? Ylisse?"

"You've never heard of the halidom?" The knight snorted. "Ha! Someone pay this actor. He plays quite the fool! The furrowed brow is especially convincing..."

_'Thank you. I literally spent months in front of the mirror practicing my acting skills.'_

"Frederick, please." Chrom sighed and turned back to Robin with a smile. "This land is known as the Halidom of Ylisse. Our ruler, Emmeryn, is called the exalt. I suppose proper introductions are in order... My name is Chrom - but then, you already knew that. The delicate one here is my little sister, Lissa."

"I am NOT delicate!" Lissa stomped her feet and threw up her hands, sticking out her tongue at Chrom's amused face. "Ignore my brother, please. He can be a bit thick sometimes. But you're lucky the Shepherds found you. Brigands would've been a rude awakening!"

Robin didn't have to fake his smile this time; after weeks with Garrick's band he whole-heartedly agreed that the brigands would've given him quite the rude awakening - just not in the way Lissa was probably thinking. Then...back to confusion. He was already beginning to hate this facial expression. "Shepherds? You tend sheep?" He looked between Chrom and Lissa, then turned to stare at the knight leading his armored horse. "...In full armor?"

"Heh, it's a dangerous job. Just ask Frederick the Wary here."

"A title I shall wear with pride. Gods forbid one of us keeps an appropriate level of caution." Frederick ignored Chrom's subtle jab, suspicion still clear on his face. "I have every wish to trust you, stranger, but my station mandates otherwise."

"I understand, sir. I would do no less myself," Robin said quietly, completely truthful for the first time. Then it was back to lies a moment later. "My name is Robin." The words, once so foreign and clumsy on his tongue, came smoothly without effort. He briefly stopped walking and blinked, letting surprise flash over his face. "...I just remembered that. How odd. I suppose that's one mystery solved."

"Chrom, look!" Lissa cried, pointing off into the distance. "The town!"

They all turned to stare at the black smoke drifting into the sky, Chrom and Frederick in growing horror and Robin in silent approval.

"Damn it! The town is ablaze! Those blasted brigands no doubt..." Chrom's previous easygoing nature had vanished, leaving in its wake a determined warrior. "Frederick, Lissa! Quickly!" Swiftly he remounted his horse and pulled Lissa on behind him.

Frederick glanced at Robin. "What about him?"

"Unless he's on fire as well, it can wait!"

"Aptly put, milord."

"Let's go already!"

Robin raised an eyebrow as the horses galloped off, leaving him alone on the road. Well, it looked like the Shepherds' whole knights in shining armor reputation wasn't under exaggerating at all. Although leaving a supposed amnesiac all by himself in a strange territory with bandits nearby was a bit irresponsible of them...still, they probably had bigger things on their mind right now.

The pawns were in place. Time for him to make his move.


	2. Road to a Burning Village

**_I have a few ideas about who I want to be Robin's wife, but nothing's set in stone so I'd still like to hear everyone's suggestions if you have any! Just a heads up though, I usually feel weird pairing the Avatar with anyone from the second generation unless it's one-sided or completely platonic (feel free to suggest some for those), and in any case for the purposes of this story Morgan must be from the same generation as everyone from the future._**

**_For anyone who wants to know the Robin I'm picturing in this story is average height with black hair and the long hairstyle (the one with the bangs). His strength is magic and his weakness is HP, and yes I have a save file that I'm using just for this fic. Kudos to anyone who can guess what mode it's in from this chapter!_**

* * *

_Present time: road to a burning village_

The smell of burning flesh and the screams of dying people assaulted Robin's senses as he sprinted towards the town, dodging fleeing civilians and panicked animals with the ease of practice. As he ran he finally allowed himself to relax, breathing in deeply and smiling at the familiarity of it all. During his life he'd taken on numerous identities, forged many separate personas, and fought alongside countless faces, but throughout it all he was and would always be a tactician. He was a playwright of conflict, with humans as his actors and the battlefield his stage. In the midst of battle was the only place where he could truly be himself, so himself he would be.

The stream of running townspeople suddenly thinned and as Robin skidded around the last bend in the road he quickly saw why; the Shepherds had apparently opted to push deep into the town in order to rout the bandits and save as many people as possible - a noble goal and a fair strategy given their limited numbers, but in their haste to free the town they had apparently forgotten that doing so left the gates completely unprotected. Two burly brigands stood by the open gates, their bloody axes and manic grins successfully deterring anyone from attempting to approach.

Robin drew his sword and charged the gates. A quick flick of his fingers and one of the axemen dropped dead, their heart stopped by the current of a highly condensed ball of electricity. The other man turned and raised his axe, but was too slow as Robin's sword easily broke through his clumsy guard and deftly buried itself in his neck.

The man dropped like a stone, gurgling and clutching at his throat. Robin grimaced and ended his pain with a quick fire spell at point blank range. Seeing as most people didn't usually walk around with high quality weapons Robin was currently wielding a crudely made bronze sword he'd bought from a street stall a few days ago. It was sturdy enough but the blade was much duller than he'd like. Hopefully the Shepherds would give him some better weapons once he officially joined them.

"All of you should go now," Robin called. After a moment's hesitation a few people emerged from where they'd been hiding nearby and hurried out of the town, shooting him grateful smiles as they passed.

Robin took up a guard position by the gates, idly swinging his sword by his side as he listened carefully to the sounds around him. The crackling flames and screaming villagers made things difficult, but above the din he could barely hear the clash of metal and the hoofbeats of a heavily armored horse. Then...

"Hang on, we're almost there!" Lissa's voice was even more high-pitched than usual as the hoofbeats drew closer and closer to the main gates. Robin frowned, momentarily nonplussed.

Frederick's horse burst around the corner. Frederick himself was nowhere in sight, but Lissa sat in the saddle and was clearly struggling to steer the horse and hold onto a bloody Chrom.

For a moment Robin gaped at the unexpected sight; then a large piece of falling debris nearly beaned the horse on the head and Robin dove forward, just in time to catch Chrom before the lord had a painful collision with the ground.

"Robin?" Chrom gasped, staring at him in confusion. "What...why did you...follow us?"

"It seems that I know how to fight. Never mind me, are you alright?" Robin pressed his hands against the heavily bleeding gash in Chrom's side, remembering to wince sympathetically at Chrom's pained gasp. If the noises around him were any indication Frederick was a few streets further down, out of sight and probably guarding his lord's retreat against a tidal wave of bandits. The only other witness around was Lissa, who was struggling to calm the panicked warhorse so she could dismount without breaking any bones and easy enough to deal with anyway. It would be so simple to dig his fingers in deeper and call the magic to his fingertips...

But no, the mission always came first and there was no way it'd be able to continue if Chrom died. Robin quickly moved out of the way as Lissa finally dropped to the ground, staff already glowing with energy. He watched carefully as Chrom's wound shimmered closed, leaving only a faint scar that looked for all the world like it was years old as opposed to merely seconds. It seemed that Lissa was a highly skilled healer; Robin filed this information away for further reference.

Chrom took a deep breath and sat up, glancing around the area as he took a moment to reorient himself. Robin quickly leaned in to steady him and watched as the lord's eyes landed on the two corpses beside the gate, narrowing at the sight of their injuries.

"You can use both magic and the blade, then?" Chrom said after a long moment, turning to give Robin an appraising look. "And yet I don't see you wielding a tome."

Robin put on a confused expression and shrugged. "It just...came naturally to me," he offered quietly, holding up his hand. A flick of his wrist summoned a ball of fire to float above his palm, heating up the royal blood which coated his skin. "I suppose I must've learned this somewhere..." Chrom's eyes drifted to a spot above Robin's shoulder and widened; before he could do anything else Robin was already moving, pivoting on the soles of his feet and tossing his summoned fire in one fluid motion. Two fireballs collided in midair and snuffed out of existence.

Robin grabbed his discarded sword, grimacing as it threatened to slide from the grip of his blood-coated palm. But the other mage was already preparing another spell so there was no time to waste; he lunged forward and swung at the mage. The unwieldy sword's weak edge combined with his awkward grip and hasty swing made it easy for the mage to block with an arcane shield. The man grunted and gestured; the shield pulsed with energy and the sword flew out of Robin's grasp. Robin made a face and raised his hand; his sharp-bladed wind spell sliced through the bandit's shield like a hot knife through butter and the mage's head flew into the air.

A pained grunt drew his attention to the side, where he noticed Chrom holding his own against three axemen while a fourth lay bleeding out on the ground. Robin didn't bother going for his sword this time and a ball of lightning quickly took the nearest bandit out of the fray. The other two faltered, momentarily distracted; Chrom took advantage of this to press forward. Falchion's blade gleamed in the sun and two bodies dropped onto the ground.

Chrom eyed the corpses and nodded. "Not bad," he said with a small smile. Robin tentatively returned it as he wiped his hands on a bandit's clothes and retrieved his sword.

"Where is Sir Frederick?" he asked, pushing a few stray strands of hair away from his face.

"We left him at the town...square..." Chrom cursed and began running.

"Chrom, wait!"

Chrom stumbled to a halt and shot Robin a glare. "There are dozens of brigands there! I cannot leave him to face them alone-"

"Where was he when you left him?" Robin interrupted. "Was he in an easily defensible area?"

"I...yes, but-"

"The bandits don't seem very skilled so he should be fine for a few more seconds. You, on the other hand, just lost a lot of blood. Even with your wound gone you'll tire quickly if you rush in without a decent plan." Robin sighed and glanced around, pretending not to notice Chrom and Lissa's surprised expressions. "If we leave this gate undefended some of them may escape and hunt down the townspeople. Chrom, you should stand guard here and stop them from leaving. Lissa and I will go help Sir Frederick. The town square, you said?"

"Yes, straight down this path and to the right." For a moment it looked as though Chrom was going to protest but he went to stand by the gate without complaint. "Robin, be wary of their leader. He is no ordinary highwayman."

"I will." For all of his idiocy and ridiculous self-made titles Garrick was an ex-mercenary and had more experience than most of the bandits combined. Robin had learned early on to not underestimate him. "Lissa, let's go. Stay close and keep your staff ready - if anyone gets too close you can at least use it to block an attack or two."

"G-got it!"

* * *

Chrom had just placed Lissa in the hands of a complete stranger who supposedly had amnesia. Robin wasn't sure if he should be proud of himself for earning the lord's trust so quickly or facepalming at the prince's complete and utter stupidity.

Well, to be fair it wasn't like there were any other options. In his current weakened state Chrom would be more of a liability than an asset; it was better to let him stand guard and take care of any stragglers that escaped.

Frederick stood at the foot of a stone bridge spanning a wide canal that separated one half of the square to the other, looking slightly out of breath and a little worse for the wear. Overturned carts and crates had been piled on the wide bridge, which when combined with the bodies of fallen bandits narrowed the path until the brigands had no choice but to approach the knight one at a time. The bandits for their part had fallen back and were regrouping on the other side, shooting glares and taunts at Frederick as he glared back at them with his bloody lance in hand and his head held high.

Robin quickly assessed the situation and was duly impressed. Not bad at all; he'd have to tread carefully.

"Frederick! Are you alright?" Lissa hurried forward once Robin gave her the all clear, her staff raised as she glanced warily at the leering men merely yards away.

"I am perfectly fine, milady. What of your brother?" Frederick spared them a glance, eyes narrowing as he took in Robin's presence and the distinct lack of Chrom. "Robin, what are you doing here?"

"Chrom's standing guard by the gate," Robin jumped in before Lissa could answer. "He lost a lot of blood so I thought it'd best if he prevented anyone from sneaking out and going after the townspeople while we took care of the ones here." He paused and put on a thoughtful frown. "It...appears as though I am able to fight, so I will do my best to aid you."

Frederick stared at him a moment longer before nodding sharply and returning to the problem at hand. "The leader and some of his men have barricaded themselves inside that church. We must break through the ones before us if we wish to make it over."

Robin smiled. "Leave that to me."

* * *

Chrom dodged an arrow and quickly closed the distance to bury Falchion in the archer's stomach before the man could ready another attack. Without missing a beat he kicked the bandit off his blade and turned, bringing Falchion up just in time to intercept a sword swing aimed for his head. In a contest of swords Chrom was easily the victor and the swordsman fell to the ground a few moments later, bleeding profusely from fatal wounds.

He stabbed Falchion into the ground and wiped at the sweat streaking down his face, looking around the corpse-ridden clearing. Robin's prediction had held true; in the past few minutes he'd found himself dealing with a small number of bandits as they attempted to flee the town.

Robin. The man was an enigma indeed. An amnesiac who was far from helpless, who could analyze a battlefield at a glance and wielded both magic and blade with ease... Chrom had initially intended to gently question Robin about anything the man could remember before leaving him at the church in the care of the priests. With this latest revelation, however, he found himself wondering if their new companion would agree to join the Shepherds. Their ranks would be greatly boosted with the addition of Robin's skills.


	3. A Room in Ylisstol

**__****_The general pattern of this fic will be two chapters with Robin followed by two chapters with Morgan or someone else from the future. This chapter doesn't contain a lot of action but things will pick up again next chapter._**

**__****_After some thought I've decided to make this an eventual (as in far, far, faaaaar in the future eventual) Robin/Cherche story for a few reasons which should become clear later on._**

**__****_Also, kudos to anyone who knows where the sentence in Robin's book is from. It's a big hint towards what kind of spell that is ;)_**

* * *

_Future time: a room in Ylisstol_

What were you supposed to take on a journey to the past?

Morgan stood in the middle of her room, bag in hand as she looked over her belongings. Her coat was definitely coming; it was enchanted to be as durable as a good suit of armor _(Father gave it to Gerome after a close call with a Risen. The day they learned of his disappearance Gerome draped it around Morgan's shoulders and refused to take it back while Mother, strong, beautiful Mother, gently stroked the embroidered sleeve with wet eyes and a dry face)_. Morgan, Laurent, and even Brady had spent long hours attempting to recreate the spell but most of her father's notes had gone up in flames when Risen stormed the castle several years ago and they'd been completely stumped. Morgan rubbed her hand against the soft material and smiled; when they reunited in the past she'd have to remember to ask Father for the instructions.

The past. Just the thought of it made her giddy, and she'd seen the giddiness reflected on the faces of her friends. A world where humans thrived, where the sky was blue and the air unpolluted by the ashes of burning bodies. It was the world of their distant childhood, the world where their beloved parents were still alive. It was almost too good to be true.

But she'd never get to see it if she spent all day packing. Morgan snapped back to business and glanced over her dwindling medical supplies. Lucina had allotted each of them a precious jar of medicine from the castle's carefully rationed stores; an unopened Concotion sat safely in a pouch tied to Morgan's belt, right next to her Elfire tome in its book strap. Still, there was only so many times she could use it before it all ran out so she swept the bandages and gauze into her bag anyway.

Next to go in were her well-read strategy books, their pages tattered and the covers threatening to fall off. Then there were rest of her week's rations, her waterskin, all the maps she had, a change of clothes, and a ripped black belt with silver fastenings, the metal discolored by dried blood _(it was stuck in Minerva's claws, evidence of the wyvern's struggle to rescue her doomed rider before she'd been forced to flee. Gerome did his best to hide it from her but Morgan grabbed it anyway and stared numbly at the still-fresh blood staining her fingers_ _red, Minerva's anguished keen and Gerome's unsteady breaths echoing loudly in her head)_. She barely remembered to add two small bullions to trade for gold; it had been a while since money had any real use since everyone traded for safety and necessities nowadays.

That was all she really needed - as a matter of fact that was most if not all of her personal possessions - but somehow it felt like there was still something missing. Morgan ransacked her room, careless in the knowledge that she wouldn't be returning, but found nothing. With a sigh she picked up her bag and walked outside, closing the door behind her without looking back.

The others were all making their own preparations; she could hear clanking from Kjelle's room around the corner and Owain proudly giving each of his items a suitably epic name further down the hall. As she passed a window she glanced outside and smiled at the sight of Gerome fastening bags of wyvern feed onto Minervykins's saddle, an air of mixed nervousness and annoyance about him. The annoyance was probably in large part due to the presence of Inigo, who was grinning and gesturing animatedly with his arms as he attempted to engage her brother in conversation.

"-think of all the girls we'll see!" The prince's cheerful voice floated up to Morgan's fifth floor window. "A whole world filled with lovely ladies! Not to say the ladies of this time aren't lovely, of course, but it doesn't hurt to have some variety every now and then."

Morgan giggled at Gerome's increasingly irritated expression and quickly ducked away, moving down the hall and towards the main staircase. There was still something about her stuff that nagged her but she'd already packed all the essentials so anything else probably wasn't too important.

But as she neared the staircase she paused and glanced up. While the castle had many floors it had been years since anyone ventured above the sixth floor. Air-mounted Risen had attacked from above on silent wings and Morgan had instructed everyone to torch everything from the seventh floor on up to drive them out. There hadn't been time to retrieve anything from the doomed floors and while Morgan had dutifully helped everyone search for anything salvageable in the aftermath she had avoided her father's rooms like the plague.

It felt wrong to leave without one last farewell, however, and after some thought she slowly walked upstairs. The frayed carpeting gave way to burnt stone and the air became noticeably colder. Placing a hand on her tome and carefully summoning a small flame to light the way, Morgan stepped onto the eighth floor and walked down the hall.

The door was gone, the ornately carved wood reduced to ashes in the blaze. The interior was similarly bare, all the furniture and books which had once cluttered the area now a thing of the past. Morgan stood there for a moment, blinking back tears as she looked around at the room that had once been her second home. There had been a large bookshelf in the far corner, the top half filled with thick treatises of war while the bottom was stuffed with children's books, their location perfect for the eager hands of short children. A long, oddly shaped spear had hung above the door - a 'shock stick', her father had laughingly dubbed it, its' physical properties a perfect fit for her mother while its' ability to channel magic made it useful to her father as well.

Morgan sighed, rubbing at her eyes as she turned to go. She was halfway out the door when there was a flash of muted light; curious, she turned back and raised her torch.

The corner of what was unmistakably a book poked out of a small crevice in the wall. Feeling her heart pick up in excitement, Morgan hurried over and carefully pulled it out.

The cover was dark gray with silver engraving, and when she touched it Morgan shuddered at the thrum of magic resonating through her fingers. It was unmistakably her father's magic, and for the aura to be so strong after all these years meant this was a powerful book indeed.

A mage's tome was their weapon, but for some it was literally their life and blood. Anyone could go to an armory and buy a generic tome, which was usually a book on the history of magic or some similar thing. Advanced mages, however, often wrote their own tomes in an effort to create a whole new spell unique to themselves. For some this meant writing about their entire life's story; for others it meant writing about something they were passionate about, or something they greatly desired. Of course that wasn't all there was to it - creating a spell was a complex process involving numerous rituals and pouring a mage's magic into the pages until the tome itself glowed with magic, unlike ordinary tomes which provided a channel for magic but didn't have any themselves. Personal tomes were often the prized possessions of the mages who owned them and their innate magic made it possible for them to withstand conditions which would've otherwise destroyed a normal book, which explained why this particular book had survived.

Morgan reverently traced the silver designs on the cover and opened it. On the title page, in her father's neat handwriting, was a single sentence.

**Can you feel your judgment, hanging in the air?**

* * *

"Hey, sorry to keep you guys waiting!" Morgan called cheerfully as she raced down the castle steps, grinning sheepishly in the face of Kjelle and Severa's combined scolding. She'd knelt in the ashes of her father's room for gods-knew-how-long, staring at that one ominous sentence as she struggled to understand what it meant. She'd just worked up the nerve to turn the page when Minerva's impatient cry had reminded her of the current circumstances and sent her rushing downstairs. The thin book lay tucked safely into the inside pocket of her coat, its magic a soothing hum as it bounced against her knee.

Laurent and Brady shot her puzzled glances as she skipped past them and Gerome, who couldn't use magic but was sensitive to it all the same, actually gaped when he felt the familiar aura but managed to compose himself after giving her a look promising dire consequences if she didn't explain.

"I'll tell you later," Morgan told him as she climbed onto Minerva, taking her usual spot behind her brother. Lucina was carefully adjusting her mask before getting onto Cynthia's pegasus and Nah stood off to the side, her dragonstone glowing faintly as she prepared to transform.

Lucina took a deep breath and looked around at everyone gathered. "We leave now," she said quietly. For a moment it seemed as though she was going to launch into an inspirational speech, but instead she looked up at the castle for a long moment. "We'll meet you there," she said simply, nodding at Cynthia. Cynthia whooped and urged her pegasus into the air. Gerome followed a moment later and Morgan held on tightly as Minerva shot upwards, the wyvern's flight more energetic than it had been in years. A flash of light later Nah joined them in the air, her scales flashing in the muted light. They circled for a moment, watching as their friends on the ground waved and began to move out on foot, then flew off towards the south.

They would rendezvous at the southernmost edge of the continent and from there fly across the sea to an isolated, long abandoned island. There they would find an ancient portal, an 'Outrealm Gate', and travel to the past.

The ever present head of Grima rose into the blood red sky far in the distance, its terrible gaze turned elsewhere as it swooped down and disappeared over the horizon. Morgan watched it go and smiled, the mystery of her father's words momentarily forgotten as she let herself imagine how they were going to prevent the monster from rising or, failing that, strike it down once and for all.


	4. Gateway to the Past

_**Another chapter already? It looks like winter break does wonder for my update speed :o**_

_**Comments are always welcome! :)**_

* * *

_Future time: gateway to the past_

The Gate had once been a part of a grand fortress, its name and purpose long lost to time. The remnants of the great structure lay scattered around the island, the broken walls and weathered stones jutting out of the ground like neglected gravestones. It was a fitting image considering the scores of Risen which shambled about among the ruins.

Even a place like this was thoroughly infected by Grima's spawn. It was only to be expected but Morgan couldn't help feeling incredibly frustrated as she dodged an arrow and sent a blast of Elfire at the offending archer. The fire spread to a nearby swordsman and both of them began to burn; Morgan hurried past their fading bodies and pressed forward, carefully making her way across the debris-filled ground. The Gate was merely yards away, its muted blue light beckoning them onward like a beacon of hope, yet there was an entire horde of Risen they to fight through first.

"Go go go!" Morgan yelled, partly to urge everyone on and partly in an effort to draw more attention to herself. She jumped onto a broken pillar and promptly ducked as an axe flew through the space where her head had been. "_Elfire_!" The Risen flew backwards and faded away.

"Here I come!" Wings flapped and Cynthia swooped down, twirling her lance in a way that logically should've been incapable of causing any damage but managed to strike two Risen in the head all the same. Several nearby Risen began to turn in her direction only to be incinerated by a burst of white crystalline fire. Nah pulled out of her dive and into a barrel roll to avoid a couple of spells before closing in again, flames spewing from her mouth.

"WITH ALL SPEED! PAAAAAAATH OF RADIAAAAAAAAAAANCE!"

Despite the situation Morgan grinned and looked over. Up ahead she could see Owain, Laurent, and Noire scrambling over the treacherous ground, Owain and Laurent clearing the way while Noire carefully picked off any Risen trying to rush them from behind. A short distance away from them were Lucina and Inigo, the royal siblings a flurry of blades as they flipped and spun through the undead horde.

With a roar an undead mage noticed her and raised a hand; Morgan dove off the pillar and rolled to avoid the sudden burst of thunder. She scrambled to her feet to find herself face to face with a Risen archer that somehow managed to look completely startled. Risen had facial expressions. Interesting.

"Hey!" Morgan wiggled her fingers and quickly ducked away; the next shot of thunder slammed into the archer and sent it flying. Glancing back at the mage, Morgan gave it a cheeky salute before hurrying off, ducking and dodging various weapons as she zigzagged through the battlefield. The mage followed her like a bloodhound, its spells knocking down its fellow Risen left and right as it attempted to hit her.

_'Predictable.'_ Morgan danced to the side and watched a ball of lightning strike down the swordsman preparing to cut her in half. One of the things which made the Risen so deadly was their obsession - once they caught your scent they'd follow you to the ends of the world, not stopping until they caught you or were destroyed. A while ago Morgan had figured out how to turn this to her advantage, enabling her to preserve her tomes and energy while striking down enemies at the same time. It was a risky maneuver, certainly, but she was of the firm opinion that taking no risks was the same as getting nothing done at all.

She skidded around a broken wall and nearly tripped over a cowering taguel, who screeched and skittered backwards.

"Morgan!" Yarne yelped. "Ha...geez, you scared me!"

"Hey Yarne~!" Morgan grinned at him as she finally dispatched the mage, then struck down a pair of armored knights for good measure. "Ready to go, bun-bun?"

"Don't call me that!" Yarne sighed but took a deep breath and shook himself out, pawing the ground as he prepared to run. "H-how many are there? In front of the Gate, I mean."

"Mmm...I'd say a couple dozen or so. Easy peasy." Morgan grinned at Yarne's dismayed expression and tugged on one of his ears (_so soft and fwuffy!_) for luck before jumping into the fray again, Yarne reluctantly joining her after a moment's hesitation.

* * *

Lucina vaulted over a particularly large piece of debris and cut down a Risen about to launch a javelin at Brady as he healed a wound on Severa's leg, waiting until Severa was on her feet again before continuing her push towards the Gate. Inigo had dropped back to assist Kjelle, who'd been dangerously close to being cornered if Gerome hadn't jumped in at the last moment. Somewhere out of sight Lucina could hear Morgan yelling encouragements to someone, presumably Yarne if the constant reiterations of 'bunny' and 'bun-bun' were anything to go by. Through it all Lucina kept running, Falchion's blade flashing in the dim light as she drew closer and closer to her goal.

Nah fired one more breath before diving towards the ground as the battlefield became too cluttered for her to easily fire without fear of hitting an ally. She transformed and dropped onto a chunk of rock a few feet away from the Gate, looking around uncertainly.

"Go!" Lucina yelled, waving her on. "Do not wait, just go!"

The young manakete bit her lip and nodded, hurrying over to the portal. She stared at it for a long moment, took a deep breath, and jumped in.

Barely a few seconds later Owain arrived and struck a heroic pose, opening his mouth to begin his victory speech.

"BLOOD AND THUNDER, FOOL! WILL YOU JUST GO ALREADY?!" Noire marched up and unceremoniously kicked him into the portal before following him in. Laurent, who'd stopped to examine the engravings on the sides of the Gate, jumped at Noire's outburst and quickly hurried through the portal himself.

Four of her friends were safely through but the Risen had taken notice and were quickly hurrying towards the Gate. Lucina gritted her teeth and leapt forward, cutting down as many as she could. As much as they were trying to change the past, having the Risen arrive at an earlier time than they'd initially appeared was in no way a positive change. Despite her best efforts, however, a number of them managed to make it through the portal. With no more enemies between her and the Gate Lucina sheathed Falchion so she could run unimpeded and sprinted as fast as she could, barely even slowing as she crossed the portal and entered the time stream.

* * *

_Present time: clearing in an infested forest_

Lucina stabbed Falchion into the chest of a Risen swordsman, pulling it free just in time to block an axe swinging in from the side. She set her feet and shoved back, pushing the Risen off balance and separating its head from its shoulders. An arrow whistled over her head and she turned to the archer just in time to see it cut down by a female knight in red...Kjelle's mother. Behind her sat Laurent's father, the blue-haired noble - Virion, if Lucina's memory served - gracefully firing arrows at the Risen around them.

Lucina didn't have many memories of either one; Sully had often been busy either on patrol or training the castle knights while Virion was a rare visitor, having given priority to defending Rosanne and, after it had fallen, spent nearly all his time doing what he could to help Ylisse. For that reason she had chosen to fight with them, ignoring the ache in her chest that pulled her towards the figures on other side of the clearing. It had taken everything she had to act impassive earlier when confronted with her father and aunt; if she fought with them she would either lose concentration or worse, give herself away.

She dodged a spear and swung Falchion upwards, slicing the wooden shaft neatly in two. She released Falchion, sending the sword spiraling upwards; then she jumped over another spear thrust from behind, grabbed her sword, and swung it in a half circle. The two Risen spearmen disintegrated before they hit the ground.

She spun, Falchion raised as she looked for her next opponent, only to find only a clearing of humans. With the battle over Sully shoved Virion off her horse; the noble looked suitably chagrined as the two headed over to the other fighters.

Heart thumping in her chest, Lucina slowly followed.

"It seems all the creatures are vanquished," Frederick - Chrom's most loyal and steadfast knight, and father of the bravest taguel Lucina knew - said as she approached. He looked at her and nodded curtly, his expression one of suspicion warring with grudging respect. "This young man took care of the others."

Lucina bit her lip and forced herself to hold still as all eyes turned to her.

"Um..." Lissa tentatively stepped forward and smiled (_Aunt Lissa's gentle smile had a way of making people believe, even if only for a moment, that everything will really be alright. Even after the sun was obscured behind a bloody red sky everyone knew it never truly went away until the day Lissa died_). "I never got to thank you...for before. So...thank you. You were very brave."_  
_

"You saved my sister's life," Chrom said, and Lucina slowly forced herself to turn in his direction, though she kept her eyes fixed on the achingly familiar brand on her father's shoulder. She wasn't sure what she'd do if she saw her father's warm, friendly face - it was already difficult enough to hear his voice so calm and confident and unburdened by the weight of a long, arduous war. "My name is Chrom. Might I ask yours?"

"You may call me Marth," she said after a moment, carefully pitching her voice lower. There was a slight movement in the corner of her eye and she glanced over to see Robin (_he'd been her tutor and a constant presence in her childhood, someone she admired almost as much as she looked up to her parents. When Lucina heard about her father's death at the hands of his closest friend she couldn't believe it, for Robin and Chrom had been like brothers and would never, ever turn on each other_) studying her with a tilted head and narrowed eyes. Lucina quickly looked away and tried to make her expression as unreadable as possible; it was an undisputed fact that Robin, even at this young age, was a genius and master tactician. Gerome and Morgan were known for their quick minds and uncanny ability to read other people, traits they'd undoubtedly inherited from their father._  
_

If Chrom noticed her discomfort and Robin's scrutiny he didn't say anything. "Marth? After the heroic king of old?" He raised an eyebrow and his eyes briefly flickered to her sword, though it was apparently too dark for him to make out any details as he didn't react to the presence of a second Falchion. "You certainly fight like a hero. Where did you learn your way with a sword?"

"I'm not here to talk about me," Lucina said curtly, hoping to divert the conversation away from her as soon as possible. "This world teeters at the brink of a horrible calamity. What you saw tonight was but a prelude. You have been warned." With that she turned and walked away, struggling to keep her stride even and not break into a run. Far behind her she could hear Lissa spluttering in confusion and Frederick talking quietly, but above all she could feel her father's eyes practically drilling into her back until she disappeared into the woods and out of their sight.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Lucina slumped against a tree and peeked around the trunk, watching as the Shepherds began to leave. She took a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air so untainted by the ashes of burnt flesh and disintegrated Risen, and allowed herself to smile.

This was only the beginning; there was still a long road ahead of her. But for now, at least, she could take a moment to simply relax and enjoy the first real success she'd had in a very long time.


	5. Intermission: A Dark Mage's Workshop

**_Heads up, there's a lot of Robin thinking in this chapter._**

**_Just a quick note, the 'astral projection' Robin uses in this chapter is the same spell Validar used to talk to him in the game and Vasto is the boss on the map where you get Ricken and Maribelle._**

* * *

_Plegia: a dark mage's workshop_

"I keep thinking everything is too easy," Robin sighed as he watched Henry cheerfully prepare the ingredients for an highly potent, undetectable poison. "If it was only the prince I'd understand, but _none_ of the Shepherds are even slightly suspicious of me with only one exception, and even he has no true objection to my presence after I saved Chrom's life and watched his back in battle a few times."

"Aww, I was kinda hoping you'll need help." Henry carelessly tossed a frog eye over his shoulder; it landed neatly in the shimmering cauldron with a wet plop. "I finally figured out the total mind control curse in that forbidden book you found before you left. You should've seen Vasto's face when his wyvern riders started booty shaking all over the city! He saw the fun side of it eventually, nya ha ha!"

Robin chuckled, though a small part of him had gone cold at the thought. Henry was one of his closest friends and one of the very few people he completely trusted, but...well, _Henry_. Who'd just achieved the power of _complete mind control_. The chaos that had ensued back when Henry first figured out how to swap people's bodies was still way too fresh in his memories.

He decided to move on before he could dwell too much on it. "Has Gangrel heard about Garrick's death yet?"

"Yup! Got all excited too. He's planning to start a war next month, by the way." Henry dropped a handful of crushed pill bugs into his cauldron, watching curiously as the bubbling liquid turned bright red and the metal pot began to melt. "Oops, I think that was a teensy bit too much."

"Next month?" Robin chewed his lip thoughtfully. Chrom was planning to set out for Regna Ferox tomorrow, which was about a week's journey by horse. Negotiations could take anywhere from one day to another week, then there was another week's journey back to Ylisstol. That was assuming they didn't run into anyone in need of help, besieged villages, or one of Ferox's infamous snowstorms. "Yes, I believe that might work. The Shepherds won't be free to retaliate for at least three weeks and the pegasus knight patrols are spread out extremely thinly."

He thought about what he'd seen while traveling through Ylisse, silently comparing the defenses in different parts of the halidom. In order to get their point across Plegia's first move needed to be against an important target, either a place that had some great significance or a place under the rule of a powerful official.

A powerful official...an influential noble...someone in an important position...

Robin recalled the Shepherds he'd met earlier in the day and smiled. "Henry, tell my father to recommend Themis as our starting point."

* * *

_Ylisse: the Shepherds' barracks_

Astral projection was a very valuable skill, allowing Robin to talk to his contacts in Plegia while his body rested. Using it out in the field was suicidal, of course - his body was completely vulnerable without his soul there - but he could use it without worry in relatively safe places as long as he put up some carefully placed wards to dissuade wandering spirits from taking over while he was gone. He'd been wary about using it in the Shepherds' barracks where he'd assumed he'd be rooming with other people, but instead he'd been pleasantly surprised when he discovered that the Shepherds' barracks were constructed in a style similar to the housing for Plegia's dark mages and, unlike ordinary barracks, divided into small, spartan rooms for each individual. It was exactly like he'd told Henry - everything was falling into place far too easily.

If he wasn't certain he had a pretty good grasp on Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick's personalities after two battles and two days on the road with them Robin would've been extremely paranoid.

He still was, actually. Just about something entirely different.

Robin walked over to the table he'd requested and picked up the small book he'd bought in the market earlier. Or rather the small book that Chrom bought for him, seeing as the lord had been under the reasonable impression that Robin didn't have any money. When deep in enemy territory one needed to take notes on the enemy's movements, seek out their strengths and weaknesses, and gather as much information as possible. These notes needed to be written out in some form since human memory was easily compromised, but they had to be well hidden and not recognizable for what they were if an enemy stumbled across them. For this reason Robin had requested a blank book similar to the ones mages used to write personal tomes, claiming that he was afraid he might lose his memory again and wanted a record of everything he experienced just in case.

He flipped it open to the last written page where he'd detailed the events that had occurred the night before they arrived in Ylisstol. The portal that opened in the sky, the creatures that fell out of it, the girl disguised as a boy whose fighting style was eerily similar to Chrom's...

Although he was Validar's son Robin was for the most part only told what was relevant to his tasks and nothing else. This was much more than most of the Grimleal, who were usually just given orders with little to no explanation, but there were still large parts of his father's plans which were a mystery to him. Despite his frustration at being left in the dark Robin was wary of the consequences and usually did his best not to pry but after that night's events he was beginning to wish he'd been more determined, consequences be damned.

Who was that girl who'd disguised herself as a boy, who fought in a way similar to Chrom and also had hair of the exact same shade of blue? Normally Robin would've said she was a less famous relative who'd gone adventuring and disguised herself to be taken more seriously. That theory was immediately dashed when no one recognized her - or even her real gender - and Chrom described how she'd jumped from the portal.

What had been on the other side of that portal? Robin supposed the obvious answer was Plegia considering what had emerged, but how had that girl - who was very obviously not Plegian - managed to get into what should've been a high security, expertly warded Grimleal sanctuary? How had Robin been unable to detect any magic from what should've been a very, very powerful spell? Why were the Grimleal's undead soldiers, which appeared to have taken a giant leap in improvement since they'd still been a huge work in progress when Robin left a little over a month ago, randomly falling from the skies on the heels of a localized meteor shower? Why did the dark magic which clung them like a thick miasma feel raw, primal, just slightly insane, and so incredibly familiar?

And why on earth had the tools of Grima's servants fallen through a portal surrounded with symbols commonly associated with _Naga_?

* * *

_Ylisse: the Northroad_

"Chrom, Frederick, take the lead! Miriel, Virion, back them up! Lissa, follow them! Sully, Stahl, Vaike, Sumia, stay on this side and watch their backs!" Robin ducked under a sword swing and stabbed the offending myrmidon with his own sword (that had been thankfully upgraded upon joining the Shepherds). As the Risen dissolved he was already moving, running to rejoin the Shepherds and yelling orders as he ran.

"Miriel, archer on your left!"

The archer went up in flames before it could shoot Lissa.

"Frederick, do a sweep of the right side! Virion, cover Frederick!"

Frederick galloped off with no hesitation whatsoever while Virion dropped into a crouch behind a large boulder and began picking off any Risen that attempted to follow.

"Chrom, spearman rushing you from the front!"

Chrom set his feet and shoved at the axeman he was fighting, pushing it back and impaling it on the spear of the Risen behind it. The spearman was momentarily hindered by the disintegrating body and Chrom used the opportunity to neatly behead it.

"Sumia, behind you!"

Sumia tripped and did a magnificent faceplant on the grass, the Risen's axe swinging through the space where her head had been. She grabbed her lance and quickly stabbed it multiple in the chest while still on the ground, looking remarkably calm about her narrow miss.

"_Vaike, what are you doing?!_"

Vaike sheepishly grinned as he went the retrieve the iron axe he'd momentarily mistaken for a hand axe.

Robin rolled his eyes and shot off a few Lightning spells, taking down several Risen about to take advantage of Vaike's re-disarmed state. This was his first real battle with all of the Shepherds and he was determined to see them through the battle with minimum injuries, proving to everyone that he was just as capable as Chrom and Lissa had claimed. His job was made slightly more difficult by the fact that the Shepherds, while skilled warriors, seemed to be more accustomed to fighting individually or in small groups of two or three as opposed to together as a whole.

It wasn't perfect but it was a start; Robin would have to make the Shepherds into an elite unit of warriors, the perfect strike team that could handle itself in both large scale battles and small, covert missions. He would use the Shepherds to dispose of Gangrel, opening the way for Validar to take the throne. He would keep building the Shepherds' strength until they were all but legendary and tales of their exploits were sung in every tavern across the continent.

Then, when Ylisse was at the height of its glory, Robin - no, _he_ - would make his move.

Despite all the patience, time, and skill required it was really a very straightforward plan. But as Robin fought his way through creatures which logically shouldn't even exist yet and tried not to choke on the too-familiar miasma, he couldn't shake the feeling that his life would be anything but straightforward for the foreseeable future.


End file.
